Gold cup, plastic sole
What toxic rot and tragedy
Bubbles in your factory alone
Gold cup, plastic sole
I, a lowly chorus
Lionising the Ramones
But now, even little Pan here's getting old
Fill my plastic sole, uh
Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winter's fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
If you could melt my sole
A water sprite of desert skin
A Cheshire Cat, an open door, a hot northern wind
A perfect plum rolling six feet 'pon dusty road
Rolling to my plastic sole
The goats' bells twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, up the glen
They pirouette as waters' very, very slow friend
And faintly sing the Stones
Fill my plastic sole
Sing my plastic soul
Oh
Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winter's fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
You could melt my sole
Gold Cup / Plastic Sole Video (MV)
Pond - Gold Cup / Plastic Sole Lyrics
Official
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Gold cup, plastic sole
What toxic rot and tragedy
Bubbles in your factory alone
Gold cup, plastic sole
I, a lowly chorus
Lionising the Ramones
But now, even little Pan here's getting old
Fill my plastic sole, uh
Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winter's fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
If you could melt my sole
A water sprite of desert skin
A Cheshire Cat, an open door, a hot northern wind
A perfect plum rolling six feet 'pon dusty road
Rolling to my plastic sole
The goats' bells twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, up the glen
They pirouette as waters' very, very slow friend
And faintly sing the Stones
Fill my plastic sole
Sing my plastic soul
Oh
Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winter's fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
You could melt my sole
What toxic rot and tragedy
Bubbles in your factory alone
Gold cup, plastic sole
I, a lowly chorus
Lionising the Ramones
But now, even little Pan here's getting old
Fill my plastic sole, uh
Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winter's fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
If you could melt my sole
A water sprite of desert skin
A Cheshire Cat, an open door, a hot northern wind
A perfect plum rolling six feet 'pon dusty road
Rolling to my plastic sole
The goats' bells twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, up the glen
They pirouette as waters' very, very slow friend
And faintly sing the Stones
Fill my plastic sole
Sing my plastic soul
Oh
Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winter's fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
You could melt my sole
Writer: Nicholas Allbrook
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.